Saturday, March 29, 2008

Reasons For Sainthood Nomination Are As Follows:

This week I planned out five meals (recipes courtesy of Meals Matter,) shopped accordingly, and so far all have been successful and fairly nutritious. Feel loving and homemaker-y and also clever and organized, like a cross between the Barefoot Contessa and Sandra Lee.

Thursday night, Jim and I drove forty-five minutes in the pouring down rain to go work out with the trainer. We are both so unbelievably sore now that Jim took a hot bath with baking soda this morning to try to soothe his muscles (usually he equates baths with estrogen,) and my thighs are screaming in protest every time I do strenuous things like bend down to pick up a toy or try to sit on the toilet. Keep in mind that we are PAYING DEARLY to be in this much pain.

Yesterday I cleaned like a mad woman for another showing- again, with less than twenty-four hours notice. I ended up cramming about three loads of dirty laundry into the washer just to hide it, two loads of clean, unfolded clothes into the dryer, and another two laundry baskets of dirty clothes were driven away in my front seat, while the dog sat in the back, wedged between two car seats, panting nervously (and wetly) into my right ear. I am getting sick of this crap.

Last night, at about one thirty, Eli bit me for the first time. Like, BIT me. With his two pearly new TEETH. I think I see weaning on the horizon.

The (insert very bad word of your choice) dog crawled under the deck AGAIN this morning, and got so filthy this time that just wiping him off with wet towels wasn't cutting it. It was time for A Bath. The dog is seventy-five pounds, has hair like a sheep, and is as skittish and leggy as a newborn colt. Giving him a bath is the equivalent of bathing one of the kids like, a HUNDRED times in a row. Then you have to blow dry him, otherwise he runs around the house shaking wet fur all over everything for the next half hour. Upon releasing the clean dry dog at last from the bathroom, your own clothing is wet and filthy, as well as about six towels, the tub, the bathroom rugs, and everything else in the bathroom, including the walls. Keep in mind that this is the bathroom you just scrubbed down YESTERDAY for strangers to walk through and admire. Try, if you can, to summon up the will to clean it. Also the will to live.

19 comments:

JMC said...

I HATED showings when I sold my house. My best move ever was when I moved FIRST, and then sold an EMPTY house.

Erica said...

Our dogs are the exact same way to bathe. Our solution has been to do it outside. It takes two people, tho. One to sort of hold the dog by the collar and the other to wash FAST. Luckily, both of ours are "water dogs" and love to be sprayed with the hose.

clueless but hopeful mama said...

Dude, the house showings alone would garner you a nomination in my book. You have two kids and you're supposed to be able to clean you whole house with less than one day's notice?? SAINTHOOD.

I always dread washing the dog. The mournful, "Et tu Brutus?" eyes are one thing, the wet, hair-strewn bathroom is QUITE ANOTHER.

d e v a n said...

Ugh. House showings! Dog bathings! Two of my least favorite things.
Getting one hairy beast clean requires getting almost everything else dirty. And smelly.

As for the personal trainer, better you than me my friend.
I will be totally jealous when you are in perfect shape and I am still in my maternity pants. (6 months pp)

Mommy Daisy said...

Your paperwork for application for sainthood is in the mail. I'll vouch for your qualifictions. If you can do all that and keep going, you're up there for me.

K in the Mirror said...

I love your blog. SO MUCH. You always make me laugh and yet cry for you.

We do not have a dog, and posts like this are a huge part of why not.

Artemisia said...

So descriptive: "The dog is seventy-five pounds, has hair like a sheep, and is as skittish and leggy as a newborn colt. "

The Post Dog Bath Bathroom is the WORST. And having to clean up from that right after having scrubbed it the day before...oh, my.

Sainthood, indeed.

Swistle said...

LOVE THE TITLE. I'm on the line to the Pope right now. (Swistle and the Pope are LIKE THAT.)

andi said...

Ooh, look at you being all domesticated! Yay!

And if Swistle can't get a hold of the pope, I'll try him. Even though we may have had a falling out last time we spoke...

Jess said...

When Torsten was about to move in with me and his landlord was showing his apartment to potential future renters, we used to shove everything into the washer or dryer. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that we weren't the only ones.

Jill said...

Cleaning the house only to have it remain so for less than 24 hours is *infuriating.* I cleaned our apartment yesterday while my hungover husband was taking a nap, and then went to work out. When I came back he had moved to the couch and there were dirty dishes and tissues and blankets everywhere. I stole the remote and told him he could pick up because it was my turn to relax. That tactic was less than successful.

Maggie said...

I expect to hear the announcement of your Sainthood any day now. Because you clearly are deserving of it!

Shelly Overlook said...

I am so freaking tired of cleaning house for showings that don't matter, dogs that just make things messy and the feeling that no end is in sight.

Pickles & Dimes said...

Sainthood isn't good enough. We need something stronger to reward your heroism.

Bird said...

I don't think I'll ever move again. Just hearing about it makes me realize that I have NO CHANCE. I'm just not a good cleaner.

And food? There's none in the entire house. I guess I should go buy something so we don't starve.

P said...

Oh, I feel so good knowing that I'm not the only one who drives around with laundry baskets in the car when the house is showing!

Queen of Shake-Shake said...

Oh goodie...I needed a reminder of why I don't want a dog. Or to sell my house again. Ugh...such a pain!

Scarlet O'Kara said...

The last time I had to sell a house...oh the horrors. Parents coming through my clean house with their children who play with my daughters toys, pee on the bathroom floor, poo in the master bathroom toilet and leave without flushing, pour liquid soap on the counter, etc. What ever happened to manners?

I feel for you...Hope the house sells soon.

Astarte said...

God, I hate selling a house. It's like open season to have the rudest, most awful people say whatever they want, if and when they even show up. I am sooo sorry this whole thing is dragging out for you.

Washing dogs in the tub also way, way sucks. Having big dogs myself, I can entirely empathize. One time both dogs got out and when they came back, one was so covered in (cow? deer? pig?) shit that I could literally SMELL him before I saw him. He was so proud. He wasn't as happy when I tied him to the end of the deck and sprayed him with hose water from about five feet away!